


breathe

by seochangbin



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anxiety Attacks, M/M, Self-Doubt, and by stressed i mean, chan is Stressed, chan's thoughts are scary, changjin if u squint, fluff i promise, lapslock, like idek what i wrote i think anxiety attack is the best way to categorize this, rated teen and up bc there's some swearing, self deprecation kinda, woojin's there to help chan through it i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-14
Updated: 2018-06-14
Packaged: 2019-05-23 06:45:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14929211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seochangbin/pseuds/seochangbin
Summary: chan has a breakdown. woojin's there to help him through it.





	breathe

**Author's Note:**

> wow okay hi i'm going to be honest, i myself have no experience with anxiety attacks (to my knowledge,,,) so i hope i represented it well? i'm afraid i'm going to put off some people with this fic but i genuinely have no ill intentions, this was just an idea that came to mind :')

“why can’t i get this right?” chan mutters, mostly to himself. he’s sat at his ‘production’ desk (as changbin calls it), the only light in the room: the bright glare from his computer screen, as well as the nice pink mood light woojin, his boyfriend, had gifted him on the day of their debut. 

 

_ “why?” chan had asked amusedly, when woojin had handed it to him rather abruptly. “to congratulate you. on debuting. i know you’ve waited so long.” woojin had answered, warmth and pride in his smile, in his gaze.  _

 

he dwells on the pleasant memory as he stares, unfocused, at the mood light. not for long though, as the almost frantic clicking of the mouse and occasional taps on the keyboard resounding in the otherwise empty room start up once again, when chan’s snapped out of his little trip down memory lane. 

he’s glad changbin went off to pester hyunjin or something, the younger boy would have imploded with how noisy it was getting. so would he, but at least he has headphones on to drown out some of the noise.

chan continues struggling with the half-baked track. he drags the sample -- one of a clapped-out rhythm -- into a different place before he hits the spacebar to listen to the track in full again. he knows he’s almost there, he’s just missing  _ something.  _ or something’s in the wrong place. or this whole track is just crap. fuck. 

the track finishes, and chan  _ still _ can’t figure out what’s wrong. he slumps back against his chair in defeat. 

 

he’s just so tired, and he’s so  _ done _ with this track, he doesn’t know what it’s going to get used for either; the company had told him to make more tracks. so, that’s what he’s been doing, since they stopped promotions. in fact, that’s  _ all _ he’s been doing. he’s so exhausted, and he knows this track is going to be crap, that the company will hate it and tell him to get working on more tracks -- on  _ good _ tracks, and- 

chan sighs, taking off his headphones before he’s rolling his chair back far enough just so he can thump his head into the desk. repeatedly. his first hit is a little too violent, and he winces at the pain shooting through his skull.  _ this is how i lose my braincells,  _ chan despondently thinks.

the ‘head-banging’ -- chan knows to go down with less force this time -- does help him take his mind off of things, albeit unconventional, unhealthy and  _ quite honestly, a little bit worrying  _ as changbin had put it, when he’d caught chan slamming his head against the desk a little too hard one time. 

because chan’s  _ occupied _ , however, he doesn't see the drained battery sign flashing incessantly on the screen of his computer, the dull knocks of bone against wood only letting him hear the last few notes of an all-too familiar tone from his computer.

he knows that tone too well. he knows it because it happens every time, when he’s on his computer for too long working on something  _ really fucking important _ and it decides that it’s a really good time to shut down, because it’s run out of battery. 

_ fuck.  _

chan shoots up straight, and only stares back at himself in the black emptiness of his computer screen. he’s never looked more hopeless -- the eyebags around his eyes more prominent than ever, his black hair a tousled mess, the huge marks on his forehead from the head-banging. 

he continues staring at the empty screen in despair, work-exhausted brain still trying to come to terms with the entire turn of events. it finally clicks, and chan realises he hasn’t saved anything since 10pm. his head whips to the clock hanging above the door. it’s 12.30. 

he sinks off of his chair and onto the floor hopelessly, forehead leaning on the side of the desk. he feels his throat constrict, the sour twinge in his nose, and the prickling of wetness in his eyes, before he’s choking his sobs into the sleeve of his shirt, because he doesn’t want to wake anyone up if he happens to cry a bit too loudly. 

chan doesn’t usually break down like this. sure, he’ll cry from time to time, but this time, the shadowy-black wisps of self-doubt curling in his mind, seizing it in an death grip even he himself can’t shake off. 

 

_ why can’t you even do music right, chris? _

_ who are you to call yourself a producer? _

_ losing all your work like a fucking idiot,  _

_ letting your computer die on you without saving any of your work.  _

 

chan curls into himself, tugging his knees up to his chest in self-consciousness, as his brain supplies him with the unhealthy, invasive thoughts. 

 

_ you’re so stupid, chris.  _

_ you can’t do  _ anything _ right, chris.  _

_ you should just-  _

  
  


“chan! i heard a loud thump, are you- oh no,” woojin barges in, cutting the cold, depreciating voice in his mind off. chan’s breathing is ragged, too quick and shallow to be of any use to him. the older boy hurries to his boyfriend’s side, dropping down on his knees to get to chan. “oh no,” woojin repeats, barely audible, even freaking out a little himself, unsure of how to help chan. 

woojin rubs his hand up and down chan’s back comfortingly, in an attempt to ground the younger boy’s breathing. 

“channie, i need you to breathe with me, okay?” woojin decides, and he thinks he sees a slight nod from chan. he counts for chan to breathe in -- one, two, three, four -- and out -- one, two, three, four -- and he repeats this until chan’s breathing stabilises. it takes a while, with chan’s sniffling and hiccuping preventing him from breathing in and out fully, but he gets there. 

woojin heaves a sigh of relief when chan’s breathing is back to normal, save for a sniffle or two. the younger boy has been avoiding his eyes the whole time and still refuses to do so, but woojin can only envelope chan in a tight hug. 

chan’s arms weakly go around woojin’s sides, as he nuzzles his face into the older boy’s shoulder. he breathes in deeply, and it feels like he’s being enveloped in  _ just _ woojin. he feels safe. woojin always makes him feel safe. 

they stay in their awkward hugging position on the floor, until chan hiccups out, “it’s getting uncomfortable, can- can we move to the bed?” with a slight chuckle. woojin helps chan get up and supports him all the way to chan’s bed, because he’s still feeling a bit weak in the knees. chan lays down in bed, and tugs woojin in to lie with him. 

 

“you’re okay?” woojin apprehensively asks, once they get comfortable in the small, one-person bed. he gently wipes at one of chan’s tear-stained cheeks with his thumb, to help reassure the boy. “do you wanna tell me about it? take your time.” 

chan exhales a bit shakily, because of all the crying. “i think so. my computer died on me, i- i had a good two hours of work done and i didn’t save it, and-” chan chokes up, unable to continue. 

“oh no, it’s okay,” woojin reassures softly, pulling in chan closer to him by the waist. “you saved all the components that were in those two hours of work, right?” chan nods. “then you’ll be okay, you’ll get back to where you were in no time. you aren’t our resident producer for nothing, you’re amazing at what you do.” 

chan’s breath hitches. “i’m- i’m not. i just got lucky with these tracks. lucky enough that people- the company actually likes them. they’re not good enough. i’m not good enough,” chan rambles, self-doubt and criticism still weighing his thoughts down heavily. 

 

woojin knows chan’s a perfectionist. chan refuses to stop until he’s done with the lyrics for a song, refuses to leave the computer because he wants to finish the track he’s working on. most of the time, he ends up falling asleep at the desk unwillingly, but he’s too tired to carry on working and he just passes out like that. on the rare occasion that woojin manages to talk chan into getting into bed to sleep, he only gets two hours -- three on a good night -- of rest, unable to sleep peacefully because he has unfinished work. chan’s overworked and always exhausted, and it’s because his best trait -- his determination -- is also, sadly, a curse. 

 

“hey, don’t be like that. you’re not a machine with an auto-save function, incidents like that are bound to happen. don’t think you aren’t good just because of that, we all know you have something in you, chris,” woojin says, using chan’s english name for emphasis. woojin knows chan knows he’s being serious when he calls him by his english name. “all of us -- me, the rest of the kids, the company -- know you have something special, but it doesn’t mean you aren’t allowed to make mistakes.”

chan sighs. he can’t argue, because he knows woojin’s right. that he shouldn’t beat himself up for a mistake like that. he hums, curling into woojin’s embrace instead, enjoying the touch from the older boy lying with him.

woojin leans back a little and chan whines at the loss of warmth. “what happened to your forehead..?” woojin gently nudges at the red mark on chan’s forehead, eliciting a wince from the younger boy. “i- i was- doing the thing, again.”

woojin’s mouth forms a surprised little ‘o’, before he frowns. “i thought you promised to stop after the last time i caught you?” 

chan scratches at the back of his head, looking guilty. woojin doesn’t say anything more about it, he just presses a kiss to chan’s forehead. “take care of yourself, alright? i don’t want you getting hurt anymore,” he says, after a bit of contemplation in the comfortable silence between them. chan snuggles into woojin, making a sound of affirmation. 

the older boy speaks up again after a while as he plays with chan’s hair, “let’s take it easy for the rest of the night, okay? i’ll be here to stay with you, we can work on the track again tomorrow. but, i need you to rest for now.” 

“okay. thank you, woojin,” chan mumbles, his face buried into wooijn’s shirt. “i love you.” 

chuckling, woojin hugs chan tighter. “i love you too, chan.” 

 

**Author's Note:**

> wow did someone say rushed ending?
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> leave me a comment or kudos if you liked this!! uwu


End file.
